She’s Not Dead: All of Pink’s Albums, Ranked

On hits alone, Pink is one of the most dynamic purveyors of modern pop-rock music, blending a penchant for folk and glossy R&B melodies with raucous riffs.

The artist first splashed onto the scene as a rebellious 20-year-old with a powerful voice, an even grittier penmanship and that undeniably bubbly pixie cut. When her contemporaries were sitting pretty on lip syncing and coasting on milquetoast bubblegum, she was dismantling mainstream music with raw, unfiltered vocal chops: Along with Christina Aguilera, she would flip the script on what a pop superstar could sound look, look like and be.

Her material has been groundbreaking, rarely run-of-the-mill, and has always been anchored in raw, emotional storytelling. From 2000’s debut Can’t Take Me Home to her last entry, 2012’s The Truth About Love, Pink has rarely comprised her identity for the sake of hits, which span classic rock bangers like "Just Like a Pill" and "So What" to viscerally-charged standouts like “Glitter in the Air,” “Perfect” and “Try."

Pink, a.k.a. Alecia Moore, is slated to drop her seventh studio album, Beautiful Trauma, October 13 via RCA Records. The five-year hiatus has been utterly grueling for fans but lead single “What About Us,” a socio-political statement about the importance of acceptance and accountability, displays her continued artistic excellence. To say we're hyped is an understatement.

Below, we rank all six of Pink's studio albums (so far)!

6. The Truth About Love (2012)

“Blow Me (One Last Kiss)” kicked off the era with a hackneyed albeit clever anthem, something which she had done far better in previous eras, and the song generally represents the sour tone running rampant throughout the entire set. Big hits like “Try” and “Just Give Me a Reason,” featuring fun.’s Nate Ruess, were the exceptions—gripping fables landing comfortably in her catalog among her finest compositions. “Beam Me Up” is also a sterling, magnificently-sparse tale about yearning to find yourself again, with a gutting vocal is layered, simple and effective. Little else on the record feels original or even authentic to Moore, however, who seemed predominantly checked out on bizarre moments like “Slut Like You” and “Walk of Shame.”

5. Can’t Take Me Home (2000)

Rolling Stoneonce called the singer “a pretty good Monica,” an obvious jab at her accumulated R&B style which can come across half-baked. She flexes her vocal as best she can, but many moments on this one feel like TLC b-sides. Her smooth, blistering voice elevates the material in several instances, however, as best exemplified on the set's two radio singles “Most Girls" and “There You Go,” as well as deep cuts like “Private Show” and “Do What U Do.” On later albums, she discards the R&B flavor for harder-biting rock, and you begin to wonder what could have been had she adhered to her earlier influences.

4. Try This (2003)

Moore’s third album is irrefutably top-heavy. After the one-two punch of “Trouble” and “God Is a DJ,” the roller coaster climbs sluggishly and then barrels downward at a feverish rate. (You could probably get whiplash just listening to this.) If it wasn’t evident in the uninspired musical choices or the severely lacking lyrical energy, this was not the album Moore wanted to make. "I was kind of rebelling against the label on that one. I was going: 'You want a record? Fine, I'll write 10 songs in a week for your f---in' record and you can press it up and put it out.' That was an awful time. I was walking out of half my interviews crying. I just felt they were putting a quarter in the slot to watch the monkey dance,” she told The Irish Times about the album, which she co-wrote mostly with Rancid singer/guitarist Tim Armstrong (who also co-produced). Meanwhile, Linda Perry shows up as co-writer on several moments (“Waiting for Love” and “Try Too Hard”). Conversely, the LP contains some of her more adventurous tracks, including “Save My Life,” the Blondie-esque “Humble Neighborhoods” and “Love Song.”

3. M!ssundaztood (2001)

The album that catapulted Moore through the stratosphere, she ditched R&B (mostly) on this one in favor of showcasing her rock sensibilities. As she makes her way through songs about addiction (“Just Like a Pill”), divorce (“Family Portrait”), self-loathing (“Don’t Let Me Get Me,” “Lonely Girl”) and other variations of “Misery” (a smoldering waltz featuring Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler), you begin to feel the full weight of Pink’s journey, a disastrous and bittersweet collage of pain, suffering and loss. A score of producers, including 4 Non Blondes’ Linda Perry (who also co-wrote much of the album), L.A. Reid and Damon Elliott (and others), kept the record noticeably cohesive, framed around Pink’s searing vocals and wide-ranging musical ideals.

2. Funhouse (2008)

Two years removed from the epicness of 2006’s I’m Not Dead, Pink was a fountain of creativity, offering up her second-best album to date. Her knack for soaring hooks and intimate songwriting continued in glorious detail, finely-wrought on the folk song, “Crystal Ball.” The juggernaut does (at times) retread previously conquered territory (“So What,” “Bad Influence”) with angsty precision, but she maintains a sense of self-awareness and a willingness to challenge herself. “Sober,” “I Don’t Believe You” and “It’s All Your Fault” are all obvious standouts, along with “Glitter in the Air,” which was cemented with a cinematic, daring Grammy performance. The slick 12-track disc is glued together with her usual stylistic explorations, from the twisted “One Foot Wrong” romp to country bar-banger “Mean” to the disco-doused “Funhouse.” She wound herself up and spun out with awe-inspiring gusto, cementing her legacy.

1. I’m Not Dead (2006)

Following the generally-flat, uneven and otherwise boring Try This, Moore returned to claim her stature as one of the day’s most audacious and ambitious creators. I’m Not Dead, with pop genius Max Martin and Billy Mann spinning in the producer chairs, is fittingly her most cohesive and explosive, mismatching varied styles, from folk, R&B and classic rock, into a potent elixir. The thematic breadth, anchored by emotional cornerstones like title cut “Who Knew” and spooky closer “Conversations with My 13 Year Old Self,” exposes every raw nerve she has buried underneath those layers of sarcasm and her vibrant onstage persona. She lifts the mask from her throbbing heart, battered and bruised, and attempts to lick her wounds through self-inflicted therapy. “Dear Mr. President” sees her send up a prayer to then-President George W. Bush about the country’s tragic reality, while “U + Ur Hand” is forever carved into the wall of pop's greatest empowerment anthems.